Oblivion
by Miss.Mil
Summary: He should have been there to save her, protect her and hold her. It was his duty to protect his crew, make sure they were safe, but she was more.


_And so I finally did it. Yes, I killed Kate. One-shot. An alternate ending to 'Red Sky Morning'. _

The young seaman saw nothing. It was hard working without her, but their job still had to be done. He'd been sick when it happened, ravaged by the coral poisoning which had been the direct result of him not listening to her. Much later, he had been told of how she had swum out to save him, shouting. But he didn't hear. She had tried to save him, but he couldn't save her. No one could.

The chef saw nothing. She was down with the youngest member of the crew. She heard about it soon after, from the navigator. No secrets here. A member of their crew was gone, taken from them in the cruellest way. The Navigator had told her about it later, how she, the strength behind the crew, had fought so hard. Boarding parties were different without her, and her presence was missed by all. If only they could see the flick of blonde hair again as she swept through a door, or over the edge of a foreign vessel! The second medic had tried to save her, but couldn't. No one could.

The newest member of the crew saw nothing. He was locked in a freezer below deck, his life force being drained as surely as hers would be. As soon as he had come up on deck, he had seen her lifeless form. For the first time in his life, he felt guilt. It should have been him. If he had been more careful, the doors to the freezer would not have been shut, and she might still be alive. By the time they were free from their icy prison, it was too late. The new electronics technician had tried to save her, but couldn't. No one could.

The Radio Officer saw nothing. He was sitting at his desk, waiting for confirmation from NavCom. It never came, and it never would. He heard the gasp of the other people on the bridge; unable to see, he _felt_ the thud as her body hit the deck. No one spoke and the Radio Officer sat there, lost for words. Although he had not seen it, he knew what had happened. Should it have been him lying there? He was usually on the steaming party; this time he wasn't. Maybe he should have been... he should have saved her. But he couldn't. No one could.

The ship's medic saw nothing. He felt nothing. No tremor in the ocean, no sounds above deck, not even the pounding waves against the hull of the ship. But he knew what had happened. He knew from the moment silence laced the bridge. As the medic, he should have been there, but he wasn't. He was in the wardroom with the ship's youngest sailor. He should have been up there to save her. To render assistance, to be on the boarding party to help her. But he wasn't, and he couldn't save her. No one could.

The ship's Bosun saw nothing. Like the newest member on board, he was trapped by ice. He knew something was wrong; the moment he was free again he went to find her. For what searching miles did she drag her pain that were for him plain paving? There was no way of knowing what her last thoughts were, and he wished vainly that there was. He should have been on deck with her, his lifeless form alongside hers. He should have been with her, watching her back, protecting her; like he was supposed to. But he wasn't. He should have been there to save her, but he wasn't. He should have been able to save her, but he couldn't. No one could.

The chief engineer saw nothing. He heard the silence ricochet off the walls of the bridge. His world was halted, and the missing presence felt. The earth still moved, but no one on the bridge dared to. The silence was eventually broken by a muffled sob and a gasp. He was monitoring his screens, ignoring the world. He'd had no idea something was wrong, until it was all too late. Too late for him, and for her. He should have saved her, but he couldn't. No one could.

The ships Navigator saw nothing. She looked down at her screen, and it was already over. A gasp escaped her mouth to fill the void of silence in the bridge. A glance at the CO told her he had seen everything, and she only wished she could have. She should have been there to save her friend – she could not lose another she held dear. Her heart was fragile, only to be broken in those few fateful moments. She should have been in her place. She should have been able to save her, to prevent this, but she couldn't. No one could.

The ship's CO saw everything. From the moment she was dragged outside until that fateful last breath. He stood stoically, unmoving, unable to believe his eyes. His heart tried to cry out, but his mind held it at bay. His ship ceased to move in the ocean beneath. His heart skipped a beat. He should not have left her, he should be there. It should be him instead. His mind told him it was irrational, but his heart told him it was true. He should have been there to save her, protect her and hold her. It was his duty to protect his crew, make sure they were safe, but she was more. She was his lover, his friend and his mentor. He should not have let this happen; he should be beside her, both equal in death; he should have saved her, should have been with her. But he wasn't, and he didn't save her. But he could have.

The executive officer saw nothing. She was dragged backwards, toward the door, painfully understanding that this was it. The knife was at her throat, tempting her to take that final leap, calling her toward it. She fought, and she fought hard. But it wasn't enough. A shout from her captor told her the end was close, closer than she could bear. The blade cut into her neck, forcing her to cry out. For a fleeting moment, she could see her crew standing there, all of them, watching. A pang in her stomach brought tears to her eyes. They would see this, however much she hoped they wouldn't. She closed her eyes. The blade went deeper. This was it. A burning pain filled her senses, and she cried out; but the scream never reached her lips. The gaping slash across her throat held the sound captive. She couldn't breathe. She fell uselessly to the cold metal deck, and she lay there. Hoping, praying, that they couldn't see this indignity. Her lungs screamed for air, and her heart began to slow. Black spots appeared in her vision. For the first and last time in her life, Lieutenant Kate McGregor stopped fighting.


End file.
